


A Peppermint Twist With A Mistletoe Kiss

by ranguvar82



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Candy shop owner Aziraphale, Christmas, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Florist Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: Written for the lovely and amazing yvesriba, who requested the following genres: Fluff, Human Au, and the following prompts: Winter outdoor activities and holidays in the South Downs.Crowley and Aziraphale are next door neighbors. Crowley's plants grace the interior of Aziraphale's candy shop, and Crowley is addicted to the delicious confections his angel puts out. They're best friends, nothing more. Crowley asking Aziraphale to the village Winter Fest, and to spend Christmas with him, is just because they're friends.Honest.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 83
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20





	1. Peppermint Bliss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yvesriba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvesriba/gifts).



> For my lovely yvesriba, who is awesome, and a HUGE round of applause to the Mods of SVD and Grow Better for all their hard work.

A Peppermint Twist With A Mistletoe Kiss

Chapter One: Peppermint Bliss

Anthony J(Just a J, really) Crowley prided himself on three things. One. He had the best plant shop in the village. Two. He had the best car. And three. He was lucky enough to have his best friend be his next door neighbor. Everyone that came into Second Eden always remarked on how lovely the plants were, how green and luscious the leaves were, the beautiful colors of the flowers, and Crowley would puff up in pride. But what most people noticed was the glass jar filled with homemade peppermint sticks sitting in pride of place on the counter. They were gleaming red and white, and the smell of peppermint was enough to make customer’s mouths water. But if anyone so much as dared to touch the jar without a go ahead from the owner, they would be on the receiving end of a glare that would send them packing. Crowley guarded his peppermint jealously, only rarely giving any out. It was, after all, given to him by the man he was...err...by his best friend, his next door neighbor, Aziraphale Fell.

Aziraphale had moved into the village six months ago, taking over the empty building next to Crowley’s plant shop that had once been a clothing store but shut down after the owner, Marjorie, had to quit to take care of her ailing husband. The Sergeant, as she always called him, had been getting worse in his later years. Crowley, in a rare attempt at being somewhat neighborly(and also wanting to see what sort of business was going in) had sauntered over.

His first impression had been of a firm backside wrapped in cream and beige, fluffy white hair that looked like a cloud, and thighs that looked soft and strong. He had cleared his throat, and the owner of the backside had turned, and Crowley found that his tongue got stuck in his throat. The man was **gorgeous.** Blue, blue eyes, a cute, pert nose, and soft, plump lips that were drawn back in an expression of surprise. “Oh. Hello.”

Crowley made some sort of grunting sound. Gorgeous tilted his head, and Crowley wanted to sink into the floor. “Ngk. I...Hi. Uh...Anthony Crowley, I own the shop next door, the uhh...flower one, call me Crowley.” He babbled as he stuck out a hand. He belatedly realized he had dirt under his nails. Gorgeous took his calloused hand in his soft, plump one, and Crowley almost swooned. 

“Aziraphale Fell, confectioner. I’m opening a candy shop.”

Crowley tried not to wiggle in glee. If there was one failing he would admit to, it was that he had a sweet tooth the size of Europe. “Yeah? What sort?”

“Well,” Aziraphale said, smiling, “all sorts. May I count on your patronage?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

That had been the start of their friendship. Crowley had been Aziraphale’s first paying customer, and the licorice whips that he bought were so delicious that from then on he made it a point to buy one every day. 

One day, Aziraphale had walked into his shop, and after praising it to the skies, had shyly asked Crowley what sort of plants would fit in the candy store. Crowley had spent an entire day helping Aziraphale select plants, and in return, Aziraphale had invited him back to Heavenly Confections for a ‘special treat,’ which turned out to be a bottle of very good wine and some of the best chocolates Crowley had ever had in his life. After that, they made a standing date-Thursdays-in which much wine was drunk, Crowley got to try the new candies before anyone else, and many philosophical arguments were had. 

Now, Crowley was on a mission. The Winter Festival was fast approaching, and for the first time ever, Crowley had someone he wanted to go with, someone he could go on the sleigh ride with, do all the winter activities that had always seemed pointless before. He was also wondering how he was going to tell his best friend that he was bonkers for him and had been from the moment those blue eyes met his. He placed the philodendron he was potting on the floor, went into the back and washed up as best as he could before braving the snow and dashing across to Aziraphale’s shop.  The candy maker had gone all out on the decorations. Wreaths hung everywhere, there was garland on the windows, and inside, in a corner, was a tree that was so covered in ornaments that it was blinding. Crowley took a moment to admire how well Aziraphale was taking care of his plants before pushing open the door and walking in.

The shop was wonderfully warm, and as ever, Crowley inhaled the rich scent of chocolate, peppermint, sugar, and other smells. It was also crowded, and people shouted and bustled about as they purchased box after box of the delicious homemade candies. Aziraphale, somehow looking as cool and calm as ever, took orders and payments as chaos erupted around him. Crowley leaned against the wall and waited for the crowds to thin out a bit. “Busy?”  On the radio, Frank Sinatra sang about a white Christmas. Crowley hummed along. 

Aziraphale beamed at him. “Crowley! Be with you in a minute. There you go, Mrs. Garth, one package of cherry liqueur truffles. Be sure to keep them in a cool place.” Aziraphale wiped his hands on his apron and came over to where Crowley was leaning. “I’ve just got started on a batch of brandy chocolates with a chili lime glaze. Would you like to try one?”

“Yeah.” 

They went into the back, and Aziraphale plucked a piece of chocolate off the tray, handing it over. “Tell me if you think it needs more chili.” Crowley took a bite. The chili hit him first, sharp and spicy on his tongue, then the lime, cool and refreshing. The brandy mixed with the dark, bitter chocolate to create a flavor profile that was unique and delicious. Crowley moaned. 

“Don’t change anything.” He moaned, licking his fingers clean. Aziraphale wiggled happily, and Crowley’s stomach did a flip. Now was the time. “So uh...don’t know if you know, but the Winter Festival is coming up.”

“Yes, I was told. I’m afraid I don’t really know what it is.”

Crowley snitched another chocolate. “Eh, it’s just a bunch of winter things. There’s a snow sculpting contest, a sleigh ride, sometimes races down the Hill, that sort of thing. Anyway, I was wondering, if, you know, would you like to go with me? As friends, of course. No pressure if you don’t want to.”

Aziraphale somehow managed to make his entire body beam with joy. “I’d love to. We should enter the snow sculpting contest!”

“Nyeah...” Aziraphale simpered at him, and Crowley sighed. “Sure, why not. Might be fun.” He reached for another chocolate, and Aziraphale slapped his hand. “Oi! Angel!”

Aziraphale blushed at the nickname, as he always did. “Those are for the customers. Your batch is in the fridge.” 

Crowley’s eyes lit up and he ran over to the fridge. Inside was a giant box filled with the brandy lime chocolates. “You know me so well, Angel.”

Aziraphale smirked. “I should hope so.” He watched Crowley eat, a blissful expression on his face, and felt the usual pang. 

How was he possibly going to tell this man, his best friend, that he was hopelessly, completely, and utterly in love with him? How could he ruin a wonderful friendship? There was no way Crowley returned his feelings. Aziraphale was too old fashioned, too...soft(his brothers’ voices echoed in his head, and he mentally stomped on them) and far too much of a  fuddy duddy. No, he would have to be content with friendship. “So tell me about this sculpting contest. We’ve certainly got the snow for it.”

Crowley nodded and swallowed. “Well, there’s no real limit on what you can sculpt, so long as it’s not real obscene, you know? Last year I did a serpent. Would have won, but old lady Ferris is terrified of snakes and I got second place. Still, it’s fun. Y’can compete individually, like I usually have, or in teams, like we’re gonna. The prize isn’t much-fifty pounds-but it’s more seeing how creative everyone can get. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Do we have to fill out an entry slip?”

Crowley shook his head. “Nah. Just show up, claim a patch of snow, and start sculpting.”

Aziraphale grinned. “Well, in that case, count me in.” Crowley tried very hard not to punch the air in victory. “Oh. I almost forgot. Since we are so close to Christmas, I have something for you. Now I know you’ve got my sticks in your shop, but this is something special. Close your eyes.” 

Crowley shut his eyes. Aziraphale went over to the counter and pulled a box from underneath. “Hold your hands out.” Crowley did, and Aziraphale placed the box in his hands. “Open.” 

“Angel, that’s not...” Crowley’s eyes were lighting up. Aziraphale smirked. 

“Not what?”

“Peppermint chocolates?!” Crowley squeed. Aziraphale laughed. 

“Indeed. Your favorite, if I recall.” Crowley had already opened the box and was devouring a piece of chocolate. “I was going to give them to you on Christmas proper, but since that’s only a few days away, I thought you deserved an early present.”

Crowley blushed, then much to Aziraphale’s surprise set the box down and ran out of the shop. Before the candy maker could wonder what he’d said, Crowley returned, panting hard and holding the most beautiful lily Aziraphale had ever seen. “Got...your...present...too...” The florist panted. “Peace...lily...reminds...me...of...you...” He set the pot on the counter and collapsed into a chair, breathing hard. 

“My dear, are you quite alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Do you like your present?”

“It’s lovely.”

Crowley tried and failed to keep from blushing. ‘I love you.’ He thought. Out loud, he said, “Cool.”

The morning of the Festival dawned bright and cold. It had snowed overnight, and the village looked like a picture postcard, glistening and white. Crowley bundled up in his usual fifteen layers-he hated the cold, and could never be warm enough, but he was determined to make the best of it and enjoy himself with his angel(and oh how he wished that were true, and Aziraphale was his) before making himself his usual breakfast of scrambled eggs and black coffee. He ate as quickly as he could, knowing that the sooner he and Aziraphale got out to the field, the better chance of having a good spot. 

Aziraphale answered the door on the third knock, looking more put together at seven am then Crowley ever had in his life. He was dressed in a thick cream and gold jumper, thick trousers, and wore a tartan scarf around his neck. “Good morning.”

“Hey. So, wanna go stake our spot?” Aziraphale nodded, and they crunched through the new-fallen snow towards the field on the edge of the village. This early, there was no one around, and Crowley could almost imagine that he and Aziraphale were the only ones around. ‘Tell him, you useless idiot!’ 

“So, um, Angel, I was uh...wondering...” ‘If you would like to be my boyfriend. No. Too juvenile. Aziraphale, I find myself quite madly in love with you.’ No. Too blunt.’ “WouldyouliketospendChristmaswithme?” ‘Real smooth, asshole. Now he’s going to think you’re the dumbest person on the planet.’ 

Aziraphale  blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Crowley wanted to crawl into a snowbank and die. His entire body was beet red, he was sure of it. “Uh..Christmas. Would you like to spend it with me?”

Aziraphale’s entire body lit up. “I would love to!”

Crowley blinked, then grinned like a loon. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Aziraphale said softly. Crowley jumped in joy. 

“YES!” 

Aziraphale laughed in delight. “Come on, let’s keep walking.”

Crowley, still floating on the high of spending Christmas with Aziraphale, allowed himself to be steered down the road. 

The floaty feeling only increased when Aziraphale slipped his gloved hand into Crowley’s, giving him a soft, shy smile. 


	2. Mistletoe Kiss

Chapter Two: Mistletoe Kiss

“And the winners are Mr Crowley and Mr. Fell for their sculpture Eden!” Mayor Riggs announced. The other contestants applauded as Crowley accepted the fifty pounds, grinning from ear to ear. He slipped it into his coat pocket, then smiled at the beaming Aziraphale.

“Oh, thank you so much, everyone. It was so much fun!”

Crowley’s heart did that little flip it always did when Aziraphale smiled like that, so open and happy. It really had been a lot of fun. Crowley shouldn’t have been surprised that Aziraphale was such a good carver-he loved making candies look like anything besides candy-but he was still very impressed with the apple tree that he had carved out. The apples, though white(being made of snow) looked as if you could reach out and pluck them off the snow branches. Even the angel guarding the gate was exquisite, flaming sword and all. Crowley had carved another serpent, coiling around the feet of the angel. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Angel.” Aziraphale blushed, ducking his head and smiling coyly, and Crowley had to exert every ounce of willpower to not take him in his arms and kiss him breathless in front of the entire bloody village. Instead, he looped an arm around his waist. “C’mon, let’s go on the sleigh ride.” He steered Aziraphale towards the other end of the field, where several horse drawn sleighs sat. Crowley went over to a dapple gray horse, patting her gently on the nose. She nuzzled him. “Hey, Pete.” Crowley nudged the dozing driver. “You got riders, wake up.” Pete jolted awake.

“Crowley. Well, come on up.” Pete said with a smile. Crowley helped Aziraphale into the sleigh.

“Umm...could you wait just a minute? Something I need to get.” Aziraphale nodded, pulling the heavy wool blanket on the seat over him. Crowley smiled and dashed off. Minutes later, he returned with two steaming mugs. The rich scent of cocoa hit Aziraphale. Crowley handed him one of the mugs, then climbed up into the seat. Without thinking or realizing, Aziraphale draped the blanket over both of them. “Gotta have hot cocoa. Probably won’t be as good as yours, though.”

Aziraphale took a sip and smiled. “It’s quite nice.” Pete clicked his tongue and the mare set off at a sedate pace. Aziraphale took another sip of cocoa. “The scenery is lovely, too.”

“Eh, just the field. Nothing fancy.”

Aziraphale batted his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about the field.” Crowley went crimson. Shyly, he scooted closer, before very carefully lowering himself until his head rested on Aziraphale shoulder. “Oh!”

“This okay?” Crowley asked in a shy voice. Aziraphale blinked back happy tears.

“My dear, this is more than okay. This is perfect.” He lifted an arm under the blanket and Crowley pressed into him, wrapping his arms around the candy maker’s soft, warm body. Aziraphale let his head drop onto Crowley’s shoulder, and he sighed in happiness.

“You’re so warm.” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale blushed.

“You too.”

Crowley ducked his head. “Shut up...” he said with no real heat, feeling giddy with joy. Aziraphale was holding him. Aziraphale was in his arms, and he was soft, and warm, and smelled like sugar and peppermints. If the world ended in the next five minutes, Crowley would die happy knowing that he was being held by this perfect angel of a man. Now he just had to pluck up the courage to take the next step. ‘Just kiss him, you idiot.’ ‘What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I completely fucked this up, and I lose my best friend to a stupid misunderstanding?’ ‘What if…?’

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice, soft and shy, brought him out of his thoughts. He was looking down at his lap. “May I...I need to ask your permission for something.”

“Yeah, sure, Angel. What is it?”

Aziraphale was wringing his hands, a sure sign of nerves. “I...I of course will understand completely if you don’t want to, but I really hope you will say yes, but again, no pressure, it may be that we don’t...um...we aren’t on the same wavelength, which happens, at least to me, and...”

“Aziraphale. What do you want?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath before facing Crowley. “I was wondering if...would it be alright if I kissed you?”

The world stopped. Crowley couldn’t hear anything except the blood rushing to his ears as the words ‘kiss you’ echoed in his head. He made some sort of gobbling noise. Aziraphale blinked in confusion.

“What?”

“Yes. Oh, fuck yes.” Crowley groaned. Aziraphale lit up like the Christmas tree in his shop, then leaned over and pressed his lips to Crowley’s. Oh. God. Soft and warm and he tasted of peppermint and the cocoa he’d been drinking and wine and spice and Crowley lost himself in the taste and sensations. Kissing Aziraphale was Heaven.

For Aziraphale’s part, he was drowning in the taste and heat of Crowley’s mouth. The florist tasted of apples and spice, of the cocoa, and his lips were so wonderful and his tongue was like velvet. Aziraphale never wanted the kiss to end. He wanted to stay here forever.

Eventually though, the need for air won out, and they reluctantly parted. Crowley pressed his forehead against the confectioner’s. “Wow.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Wow indeed.”

Pete smiled to himself.

The rest of the Winter Festival passed in a blur for the two men. They raced down the Hill, getting covered in snow, rented a pair of ice skates and skated on the lake(Aziraphale was a bit awkward at first, but managed, while Crowley skated circles around everyone), participated in a giant snowball fight(they won), and finally joined in on singing Christmas carols(Crowley’s tenor blended rather well with Aziraphale’s bass) before heading back to the village proper. Aziraphale wrapped his arm around Crowley’s waist. “You know what I think?”

“No, what?”

“I think we should go up to my flat. I’ve got some takeaway from the diner in the fridge. What would you say to roast beef sandwiches?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Aziraphale wiggled happily, and they went into the candy shop, heading for the back stairs that led up to Aziraphale’s flat. The flat was just as warm and cozy as the shop below, and Crowley inhaled the unique combination of book smell and sugar. The confectioner was an avid reader, and books took up almost every inch of flat space. Crowley, a long time visitor to the flat, had added that to his long, long list of reasons why he loved Aziraphale. He made himself comfortable on the sagging but very comfy sofa.

Aziraphale had gone into the kitchen, and now he emerged holding two plates piled high with food. He set one down in front of Crowley, then set his own plate down before going back to the kitchen and returning once more with two bottles of Coke. He handed one to Crowley before sitting down. “Well, shall we?” Crowley nodded, and they dug in. The meal was eaten in friendly silence.

Crowley wiped his mouth on the napkin, then took a sip of Coke to clear it. “Aziraphale? Can we...kiss again?”

Aziraphale beamed. “Yes, please.”

Crowley plucked the bottle from Aziraphale’s hand and set it on the table before cupping his face in his hands and pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s soft, plump ones. Fireworks exploded before his eyes, and the florist groaned, deepening the kiss and pulling Aziraphale closer with a whine of need. The confectioner’s tongue was so soft. Whining steadily, Crowley screwed up all his courage and climbed into Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale growled and yanked Crowley closer. Their clothed bodies pressed together, and Crowley whimpered. “Aziraphale...”

“I love you.” Aziraphale groaned into his mouth, and Crowley was pretty sure he had achieved orbit, so great was the surge of joy he felt. “I’ve loved you for months now.”

“Aziraphale, I love you, loved you from the second I saw you.” Crowley said, pulling away just enough so he could look into those cerulean eyes. Aziraphale’s face was almost glowing, he was so ecstatic. “I was so terrified of saying something, because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same...”

“I did. I do. I love you.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s face. “You know, you’ve seen all the rooms in this flat except one.”

Crowley was sure he was on fire. “Y...yeah, that’s true.”

Aziraphale smiled, and the smile went straight to Crowley’s already half hard cock. “I think we should remedy that, don’t you?”

Crowley nodded frantically, panting with desire. Aziraphale gave him a slow, lazy smile and pistoned his hips, letting his crotch rub against Crowley’s. The florist yelped. “Fuck!”

“Yes, exactly.” Aziraphale said with s smirk. Crowley whined again and was about to stand up when Aziraphale drove all coherent thought from him by standing up with Crowley in his arms.

‘Holy fuck he’s strong!’ Crowley gibbered to himself. He was swooning. Aziraphale was bloody strong and he was holding Crowley in his arms and Crowley was going to die. Aziraphale carried him bridal style down the corridor, stopping at the door at the end. He kicked it open, then carried Crowley over the threshold before kicking the door shut and carrying the giddy florist over to the bed, setting him down gently before climbing in and lowering himself over Crowley’s body. “Strong...” Crowley panted.

Aziraphale kissed him, soft, sweet, and slow. “Tell me what you want, my love.”

“You...want you...” Crowley moaned. Why were they still wearing clothes? “Want...naked...now...”

Aziraphale sucked a kiss into Crowley’s neck that left the other man gasping and writhing. “Capital idea.”

They undressed each other slowly, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin. Once they were both nude, Aziraphale reached down and gently grasped Crowley’s cock. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. Tell me what you want, my darling.”

“Suck me...” Crowley groaned. Aziraphale kissed him, then slid down his long, taut body, sucking bruises into the warm flesh. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Crowley’s thick, long shaft before taking him down to the hilt and sucking hard. “FUCK YES!” Crowley screamed.

Aziraphale worked him with his mouth, lips, teeth, and tongue, relishing in the sounds that Crowley was making. The florist was babbling his name, begging him to go harder, faster, deeper. Aziraphale reached out and took Crowley’s hands, placing them in his hair and moving them. Crowley got the hint and began fucking into Aziraphale’s mouth, a steady whine coming from his throat.

Crowley had died and gone to Heaven. Aziraphale’s mouth was hot and sweet on his cock, and he sucked him down like he was eating a gourmet meal. Crowley could do nothing but hold on and babble mindlessly. He had never had anything this good before. “Oh god oh god Aziraphale so fucking good oh my god suck me faster suck me harder bite me bite me oh god oh...”

A supernova exploded in front of his eyes as he came harder than he ever had in all his thirty four years. He was sure he was screaming, and his entire body was shaking like a live wire. Holy shit, if the orgasm was that spectacular just from oral, Crowley couldn’t wait to find out what it would be like to come from Aziraphale fucking him. Aziraphale’s velvet tongue was licking up the bits he hadn’t swallowed, and Crowley felt himself sinking into the soft mattress. “Ziraphale...” he slurred, drunk on love and lust.

Aziraphale kissed the tip of Crowley’s cock before sitting up on his haunches. “Be a dear and reach into that nightstand, please. There’s a bottle of lube.” Crowley opened the drawer and pulled it out, pressing it into Aziraphale’s hands. He uncapped it, pouring a generous amount on his fingers and slicking up his thick cock. Crowley’s mouth watered at the sight of it. “I don’t have condoms, but I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone in a year.”

“Yeah. Me too. Clean.” Crowley babbled, watching as Aziraphale, the bloody bastard, took his time lubing himself up. “Aziraphale...” he whined, reaching for him. Aziraphale slicked up his fingers, then lifted Crowley’s legs, placing them on his shoulders. He traced Crowley’s hole with one finger before sliding in. Crowley howled. Aziraphale slid in a second, then a third finger, scissoring them as he worked Crowley open. Crowley sobbed in frustration “Aziraphale please, please stop teasing, please fuck me, please, I need you, I can’t breathe without you, **please**...”

Aziraphale removed his fingers and slammed into Crowley. “Oh my god...so tight...”

Crowley was panting and sobbing. “Yes...god..so fucking big...so thick...fuck me, please, fuck me...”

There was nothing for Aziraphale to do but obey. He fucked Crowley hard and deep, pulling out sighs and moans and screams and pleading. Crowley was all around him, his apple spice scent making the confectioner dizzy with lust. Crowley’s long, lean legs were wrapped around Aziraphale’s waist, and with each thrust he pushed him back against the headboard. Aziraphale braced himself and went faster, harder, deeper, never wanting to stop, wanting to be buried in the perfect heat of Crowley, wanting more, more, more…

Their orgasms hit at the same time, and Crowley gave vent to a scream that Aziraphale was positive had rattled the windows in their frames. He came all over their chests and stomachs. Aziraphale fucked Crowley through a second set of orgasms, coming hard and deep inside the florist. “Oh...”

“Hnng...” Crowley stared up at the ceiling, panting. He had never experienced such mind blowing sex in his life. “Gnnn...”

Aziraphale pulled out(Crowley whined at the loss) and went into the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth. He wiped Crowley clean, then pulled him into his arms. “That was...transcendent.”

Crowley still couldn’t English. He turned and smiled dopily at Aziraphale. “Yeah.”

“So does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” Aziraphale asked, a grin on his face. Crowley’s dopy smile grew even dopier.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good. Happy Christmas, by the way.”

Crowley giggled. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale chuckled and kissed him. “Did you get what you wanted?”

Crowley wrapped himself around his boyfriend as his heart leaped in his chest, doing the fandango. “Yeah.”


End file.
